


intrusive thoughts (TRIGGER WARNING)

by Anonymous



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Don't Like Don't Read, Other, Self-Harm, knife, needle, skin stitching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27795202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: TRIGGER WARNING!!!! PLEASE READ TAGSlots and lots of violence can be very disturbingALL OF THESE ARE BASED OFF MY INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS!!!!
Relationships: None
Kudos: 3
Collections: Anonymous





	intrusive thoughts (TRIGGER WARNING)

**Author's Note:**

> A HUGE TRIGGER WARNING!!! PLEASE READ THE TAGS
> 
> if they are uncomfortable I will delete it
> 
> this is a vent fic!!!

I lie in bed, trying my best to block out all the harmful thoughts but there’s just too many. One thought in particular plagues my mind. The haunting whispers of my inner mind tell me I should do it. Something about this just… makes sense. It’s like a chant repeating itself over and over. I look to my left and on my nightstand lies my pocket knife. The more I stare, the more I feel drawn towards it. It’s like a forbidden temptation that’s becoming not so forbidden. I feel myself sit up. Before I know it, I’m reaching for my knife. The cold metal sits comfortably in my hand as I contemplate whether or not I should continue. 

Without thinking I press the knife down against my left arm and make the cut. It’s long. Almost the length of my forearm. I watch the blood pour out of the fresh wound with satisfaction. The voices in my head have finally stopped screaming. Except they haven't now… now they’re telling me to go further. They’re telling me to stitch my arm back together. I shrug and mutter “it couldn't get any worse”. I reach under my bed and pull out my sister's old sewing kit. I stare at the array of colours before finally deciding on lime. I pick up a needle and try to thread the string through. It takes me a few tries. Once I get it through I tie a knot at the end. I look at the still bleeding wound for a few seconds before poking the first hole in my open skin. I pull the needle through dragging the once green string with it. It stings, but it's tolerable. 

I make a zig-zag pattern, weaving in and out of my skin. The needle becomes slippery at one point, but that's to be expected when your blood is still dripping down my arm. Once I reached the end of the cut, I pull on the string to tighten stitches and pull my arm back together. I stare at my finished masterpiece for a while. I feel teardrops make their way down my cheeks. I sob knowing I’ve fucked up. My arm hurts and I’m tired. My consciousness ever so slowly leaves my body, making me numb. My eyes close, tears still present. I now lay unconscious on my bed, hoping that someone finds me.


End file.
